<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>An Epic Beach Trip by things_that_matter</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964349">An Epic Beach Trip</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/things_that_matter/pseuds/things_that_matter'>things_that_matter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>CMBYN: Life with Ollie [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Discipline, Domestic Fluff, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Intimacy, M/M, Punishment</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:53:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/things_that_matter/pseuds/things_that_matter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything that happens on the trip is epic, but one thing surely is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Oliver/Elio Perlman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>CMBYN: Life with Ollie [21]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094873</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Epic Beach Trip</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are we there yet?” Ollie asked for what felt like the twentieth time in as many minutes, but still Elio answered patiently, “Not yet, Ollie.”  </p><p>Oliver added, less patiently, “One big indicator will be that the car will be stopped. Don’t ask that question again while the car is in motion.”  After seeing in the rear-view mirror Ollie’s lip poke out, and then in his peripheral vision seeing Elio looking almost as pitiful, he grudgingly added, “Please.” He was rewarded by Elio reaching over to hold his hand. </p><p>The little family was traveling to the beach for a few days of fun in the sun. It was a familiar trip, one that Elio and Oliver had made for the last few years, and they would now get to share this vacation with Ollie. </p><p>Oliver, for his part, was looking forward to having Ollie along. He had never imagined himself with a child, but he had been surprised how quickly and how completely he had grown to love Ollie. Of course, for him, Ollie was easy to love, being essentially a miniature version of Elio.</p><p>Elio, for his part, was anxious, as was his tendency to be about most things. His mind raced with <em>what ifs</em>…What if they lost Ollie? What if he drowned? What if he got a sunburn? What if he didn’t behave himself? Oliver had tried to reassure him that everything would be fine, but Elio was still adjusting to having such a crucial responsibility. He’d actually killed a cactus just last month, even if Oliver tried to convince him that it was already sick when he bought it. </p><p>Elio and Oliver were both pulled from their respective thoughts when, from the backseat, came another whiny, “Are we...” but the look Oliver shot in the mirror halted the rest of the young boy’s question. </p><p>“Look at one of your books, Ollie,” Elio suggested. </p><p>“No,” Ollie sulked. </p><p>“Want me to tell you a story?” Elio tried again. </p><p>“Leave me alone,” Ollie huffed as he whipped his head away to look out the window, which revealed only the dark road.</p><p>“Hey,” Oliver interjected. “Don’t be rude.” </p><p>Ollie only crossed his arms angrily. </p><p>“He’s really tired,” Elio reminded. </p><p>Oliver squeezed his hand reassuringly. </p><p>“I know,” Oliver said softly.  “I don’t want him being rude though.”  </p><p>No one said anything more after that. Oliver had planned to pull over for the night at the next town, but when he looked toward the passenger’s seat and then cast a glance into the mirror, he found that Elio and Ollie were both deeply asleep. He was suddenly filled with affection for them both, seeing their identical looks, expressions of the peaceful sleep that follows a particularly tiring day. So, Oliver made an executive decision and drove all through the night. </p><p>When he finally reached the little beach house they had rented, exhausted to the point that every part of his body ached, he gently jostled Elio until he stirred enough to sleepwalk inside. Oliver managed to steer Elio to their bed and tuck him in while carrying Ollie who seemed somehow heavier in sleep. Finally, he deposited Ollie into his own bed, tugging off his shoes and socks and of course making sure that he had his Avengers blanket.  After carrying in all the luggage, Oliver finally laid his own weary body down next to Elio, rolling into Elio’s back to sleep. As he drifted off, he heard Elio mutter something in his half asleep. </p><p>“What?” Oliver asked gently, running his fingers tenderly through the brown, wavy hair that he had come to love so much. </p><p>“Ollie,” Elio muttered. </p><p>“He’s fine. I put him in bed. He’s sleeping,” Oliver whispered in a comforting tone, kissing Elio gently on the neck. </p><p>“If he wakes up he won’t know where he is. He’ll be scared,” Elio said drowsily. </p><p>Oliver kissed him again, and sighed. “Okay, I’ll go get him,” he promised. </p><p>After Oliver had placed Ollie, along with his Avengers blanket, next to Elio, Oliver saw that there wasn’t a lot of room left. With another soft sigh, he turned and headed to Ollie’s room, hoping to catch an hour or two of sleep in his child-sized bed. </p><p>------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Elio woke the next morning, the sun already a bit high in the sky, to hear Oliver’s voice. Without even hearing the words, Elio knew he was talking to Ollie, not only because Ollie was the only person that he <em> could </em> be talking to, but because he had a certain voice he used with Ollie. It was a deliberately patient yet serious voice, as if every word he said was of the utmost importance. Ollie seemed to think so, too, which amused Elio in a way that he didn’t understand. Elio could also determine, just by this particular tone, that Oliver was delivering more rules. Elio had grown up in a family with only a  few very broad rules, more like <em> life guidelines</em>. Be kind. Be safe. Be polite. And, Elio had been allowed to do most anything he wanted as long as he adhered to these standards. He thought he’d turned out just fine, and his parents had never even used the term “rules.” </p><p>But Oliver felt a rule was needed for every occasion. As Elio made his way, bare feet, bare chest, bare-ly opened eyes, to the kitchen, he began to hear the specific directives. “The house is close to the water, so you’re not allowed to go outside without us for any reason,” Oliver was saying. “Even when we are with you, you need to ask <em> and wait for an answer </em> before going into the water. Make <em> sure </em>one of us knows you’re going in. You can’t go into deep water by yourself, I’ll show you when we go out the first time. And, you have to wear a lot of sunscreen. You’re fair like your brother, and sunburns hurt, Ollie.”  Elio appreciated the care Oliver took with Ollie, but “be safe” would have covered all of it in only two words. Elio had figured out by now that Oliver didn’t agree, and that it was easier to just let him go. Ollie didn’t mind it anyway. It was only Elio who found it a little stifling at times. Besides, it was Elio who was so anxious about potential drownings and sunburns, so even as he felt it stifling, he also felt an undercurrent of comfort. </p><p>“ELIO!!!” came Ollie’s little voice the moment Elio rounded the corner. This never failed to bring a smile from both Elio and Oliver. Ollie ran over and crashed into Elio with the force of a miniature linebacker. </p><p>“Ooof,” Elio groaned, reaching down to tousle his little brother’s hair, which was mussed from sleep just like he was sure his own was. (Oliver’s hair, Elio noticed, was already neatly combed.)</p><p>“Easy there,” Oliver laughed, leaning down to pick up the rambunctious child, tossing him over one shoulder and playfully patting him on back, making Ollie laugh. “Your brother’s still half asleep, so take it easy,” he said, gently placing the boy on his feet. </p><p>“What’s for breakfast?” Elio asked, now noticing that Oliver was cooking something. </p><p>Ollie giggled wildly. “This is LUNCH!!” he exclaimed. Elio rubbed his eyes and tried to focus enough to read the clock. 11:30. </p><p>“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late,” he muttered. </p><p>“Oliver made me,” Ollie explained truthfully. </p><p>“Pasta for lunch,” Oliver said. “And then do you want to go down to the beach?”</p><p>Elio did. </p><p>----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Ollie stood with his hands on his hips, appraising. “It’s no good,” he decided. </p><p>“What?!” Elio said in mock outrage. “No good?!”</p><p>Ollie wrinkled his nose, narrowed his eyes, and moved one hand from his hip in order to tap his chin thoughtfully. Finally though, he delivered the same verdict, “Yeah definitely. No good.”  </p><p>Elio threw himself from his seated position into a lying position, squinting intensely in the bright sun. “Ollie, how can it be <em>no good</em>??  It’s like, seriously the most epic sandcastle ever!”  </p><p>The two brothers had been sculpting, carving, and creating for almost 2 hours and had indeed built a sandcastle that could hold its own in any sandcastle competition. </p><p>“It needs something,” Ollie said, casting his eyes upwards towards the brown waves that fell perfectly across his forehead, still tapping his chin. The pose that indicated deep concentration. </p><p>Elio sat up again, giving the castle another look, trying to employ a critic’s eye. </p><p>Oliver smiled from his beach chair, seeing the pair with the duplicate expressions they now wore. “A moat,” he stated with the absolute confidence that Elio both loved and hated. </p><p>Ollie’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes widened, and his mouth transformed into a wide grin. “A moat!” He squealed gleefully, bouncing up and down. </p><p>Elio laid back down in the sand and groaned. </p><p>Oliver shifted in his chair, ready to stand and take his turn, giving Elio a break. But, then he saw Elio sit up and hand his little brother a shovel as they both started digging the moat. Oliver didn’t want to sweep in and steal Elio’s thunder at the end. </p><p>Ten minutes later, moat completed and filled with water, they all three agreed that it was, indeed, the most epic sandcastle ever built.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>